Hair
by Asuka Kureru
Summary: 1x2x5 A morning at Heero, Duo and Wufei's place. Warnings: Silliness. And hair. Lotsa hair.


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Hair

author: Asuka Kureru

pairing: 1x2x5

warnings: R for naughty talk. Nothing really graphic, but heavily implied. Silliness?

beta: Kitty Chou

There were long brown hairs on his brush again. Wufei scowled. "DUO!!! Goddammit, use your own hairbrush next time!!" he called angrily.

Now how was he going to clean his brush--aha!

Emerging from the bedroom, Heero walked in the bathroom, just in time to see Wufei using his comb to rake through the teeth of his brush, tearing Duo's hairs out. He glared darkly. The Chinese man didn't look very sheepish.

"That's my comb."

"Yes."

"You're using my comb to clean your brush."

"Yes. But your comb is a lot easier to clean than my brush. This was the logical decision."

Hnn. Now that logic was hard to argue with.

"Besides, this is all Duo's fault. He should have used his own brush."

"So to repair his molestation of your brush, you have to molest mine?"

"We're talking about molesting? You should have called me," quipped Duo as he used his hip to bump Heero out of the way.

Wufei gave him a dark look. "Yes, about you molesting my brush," he growled, shoving said brush under his nose. "Why couldn't you use your own?"

Duo realized that entering the small bathroom had been a grave mistake and stepped back to escape, but he bumped into Heero's chest. Trapped. Uh oh.

"I couldn't because it's broken," he explained, hoping to pacify Wufei. "Half the bristles are gone."

"And why is that?"

"How should I know? Maybe my brush was just worth shit. Anyway, it's dead now, rest in peace and all that. And I can't use Heero's comb! It would take me days."

"Maybe if you bothered to use conditioner, you wouldn't have to fight your mane for hours every morning."

"But conditioner is girly!" Duo protested. He understood that it had been the wrong thing to say when Wufei's face darkened.

"Are you calling me girly?"

"Don't worry, Wufei," Heero replied sarcastically, plucking his comb out of his hand, "it takes a real man to pamper himself without feeling emasculated."

Duo committed the mistake of laughing. Two seconds later the two blue-eyed men were running out of the bathroom, ducking to avoid the brush and various bottles that Wufei was throwing at their heads.

Heero's two-in-one shampooconditioner bottle (maximum efficiency, minimum girliness) exploded wetly on the edge of the coffee table.

"You're cleaning that up," he growled grumpily, still hiding behind the couch with Duo. Wufei showed him his teeth and his middle finger. Heero gave a reproving glare to Duo for having taught that Americanism to Wufei, a glare that the other man ignored utterly.

The second Wufei left the bathroom with a mop, Duo rolled over the back of the couch, landing in a perfect crouch, and dove for the empty bathroom. The door slammed shut a half-second before Heero reached it.

"It was my turn, fucktard!!" the Japanese man roared as he kicked the door angrily.

"And now it's mine, tough luck!" Duo quipped, safe behind the locked panel.

"Don't you dare kick the door down again," commented Wufei as he moped up the spilled shampoo, "I'm getting tired of the looks they give us at the hardware store."

Grumbling, the short-haired man decided to put to good use the time he had gained and the comb he still had in hand and started running it through his thick locks. Wufei scoffed.

"No wonder it always looks like a bomb hit it. You're running your comb in the sense opposing the direction your hair grows in."

"Seeing as every other tuft grows in a different one, I don't see how I would change that. Anyway, it gets the tangles out, that's all I care about."

"It does? It doesn't look like it," commented the Chinese man snidely.

"Mop and shut up, bastard." Heero promptly disappeared in the kitchen to check on the coffee machine.

When Wufei joined him two minutes later, he was sitting at the table and watching the dark liquid fall drop by drop in the pot. The Chinese man rinsed the shampoo off the floor cloth, and then sat on the other side of the table. Heero didn't stop staring at the coffee even one second. Wufei's fingers tapped on the table.

"What?" Heero asked, still staring at the coffee machine.

"... Can you let me use your comb? I didn't have the time..." the black-haired one asked, his voice vaguely embarrassed. Heero arched an eyebrow, but that tone from Wufei was rare enough to be worth about five minutes of begging from Duo, and so he gave Wufei his precious hair comb.

Who pulled his hairbrush from his pocket and started cleaning it again. Heero shuddered.

"Not at the kitchen table, goddamn you! That's disgusting."

"Disgusting how? That's not as if I was doing it over the table."

"Yeah, well, you're not combing your hair over the rug in the computer room either and I still can't walk there without my socks acquiring hair soles. And the next time there's a hair in my food, I'll kill someone."

Wufei shrugged as he pulled his smooth black hair over his shoulder to comb it properly. The locks had grown since the war and now reached the middle of his back easily. Heero remembered the time he had swallowed one and had needed to pull it out with disgust. He'd nearly thrown up. If he didn't have a hair fetish to rival Duo's love for tight, muscled butts, he would have shaved them both bald in their sleep.

"You're such a pussy, Yuy."

Heero growled. "The only thing that would be worse than swallowing one of your hairs would be to swallow one of Duo's."

"Didn't you do that already?" Duo commented, leering at him. He was leaning against the door, a thumb hooked in the waistband of his boxers. Chestnut curls stuck out of them, crawling up toward his bellybutton. It wasn't hair from his skull that Heero had pulled from between his teeth the other night.

"I'm not going down on you anymore until you trim, Duo. That's not a bush, that's a whole forest."

"Hey, if you love my hair up HERE," Duo said, shaking his heavy ponytail à la rebellious lion, "you better accept the hair down THERE. And, well, anywhere else on my person."

Wufei snorted. "The second I see a hair on your back, you can consider yourself dumped, Maxwell. These furry legs of yours are already pushing it."

"Speak for yourself," Heero shot back. "Who cares if they offend your sense of aestheticism? I happen to like how they feel against mine."

The Chinese one arched a sarcastic eyebrow. "Two seconds ago, you hated the very idea of a hair, and now you like his rug?"

"HEY! What's with the dissing of my manly furriness? It's not my fault you Asian ladies are as bare and smooth as a baby's bottom."

"I'm not that hairless," Heero protested.

"Oh, sure, you need to shave about once every week," Wufei scoffed.

"Opposed to you who needs to shave...? Once a month tops? Are you sure you've reached puberty yet?" Heero asked scornfully. "Anyway, what I hate is the idea of ingesting one. I can deal with them just fine so long as they stay where they're supposed to be."

"So you would like it if Duo grows back hair?"

Duo made a face. "What's that shit about back hair? Why the hell would I grow back hair? That's so gross!"

"You're already half-monkey, Maxwell. You wouldn't get cold wearing shorts in the snow, and in bed I feel like I'm hugging a teddy bear, except not as soft. The only reason you don't have hairy arms as well is because you manage to have an accident every month that burns them all. And don't get me started on your armpits."

Unnoticed, Heero poured himself a mug of coffee and escaped for the bathroom.

"Oh, so NOW you don't like my armpits? You weren't singing the same song the other night. I still have a hickey to prove it," Duo added, lifting his arm to prove it. Wufei blushed.

"That's different," he argued, grabbing the abandoned pot of coffee and filling two mugs. "I was sitting on Heero's cock, I wasn't in my right mind."

Duo gave him a smug look as he grabbed his own mug. "Of course, dearie. Never mind that you attacked me when Heero was still in his pants."

"I didn't."

"You did."

"You're delusional."

"You're an armpit-fetishist in denial, that's what YOU are."

Wufei looked as if someone had poured lemon juice in his coffee. "Why would I have a fetish for THAT? That's just--"

"Gross? That's what you said the first time I swallowed, or when we realized that Heero's got a rimming fetish, if I recall right. So you see," he added, his voice shifting to take a honeyed tone of utter comprehension, "it's okay to enjoy grossness once in a while. You need to realize that you are not alone..."

Wufei snarled and swung his brush toward Duo's bottom. The brown-haired man dodged, but barely. "Whoa!! I thought we said no sadomasochism before work?" he quipped as he escaped in the living room. Laughing, he finished his cup of coffee, which he abandoned on the table on the living room, before going to the bedroom to change.

When he walked out, wearing his Preventers slacks and still in the process of buttoning up his shirt, Heero was kneeling on the floor, licking and nuzzling along Wufei's treasure trail, Wufei's fingers lost in Heero's thick bangs. Duo watched them for a few seconds before he protested the unfairness of it all. "And me? Don't I get my happy trail traveled?"

"A trail? More like a highway," Heero commented, his breath caressing the bulge in Wufei's briefs. "What I said stands. No head for you so long as it looks like a rainforest."

Duo glared, crossing his arms sulkily. Wufei sighed and rolled his eyes, hooking a finger in his waistband to haul him closer.

"Thanks," the American man grumbled unhappily.

"You could be more grateful," the Chinese one commented, arching a mocking eyebrow.

"Well, excuse me, but compared to Heero, you suck at giving head-- uhm. That didn't come out right..."

Heero choked on his laughter and Wufei's erection.

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Duo stared warily at the scissors for a long time before he admitted defeat. He just... couldn't. That work was just too delicate for an amateur like him.

"Hello?"

A disgruntled brunette answered the vidphone call, rubbing her short bangs sleepily.

"WHAT."

Duo winced. His best friend was scary when she was mad. But it was braving her or going with half his usual dose of sex. "Uhm. Hey babe. You know that place you went to before summer?"

"What are you talking about?" Hilde asked, her eyes glinting less with annoyance and more with curiosity. He had a feeling he would still be blackmailed about it when he was old and bald.

"Err. The place... You know... before you could go to the pool," he explained vaguely, making sniping motions with his fingers. His manliness was a thing of the past, but you do what you have to do to get laid. "...Do... do guys go there, too?"

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XD my, but that was stupid. snickers


End file.
